Critiquing Pet Peeves: Are You Committing Any of These Faux Pas?

I’ve been blogging about critique partners for the past few months. In January I discussed where to find critique partners, in February I covered what types of critique partners to look for and last month I blogged about how to give good critiques. This month, I’m going to address the opposite and discuss some common critiquing pet peeves; otherwise knows as: how to make sure I’ll never ask you to read for me again.

Let me preface this by saying my critique partners do not do any of these thing, which is why they are wonderful and amazing and will earn acknowledgments in all of my books.

That said, I have had a lot of people read for me and there are definite things that always pushed my buttons, despite the fact that I was grateful for the time and energy they put into reading for me.If you are planning to critique for anyone in the future, you make want to take care to avoid:

Only pointing out the bad.

Yes, I asked for a critical eye on my work and I desperately want to know what isn’t working, so I can fix it. But toss a girl a bone! It’s also incredibly helpful for me to know what is working so I don’t accidentally cut it. Help me make my manuscript better—versus worse—by pointing out the things you like, whether it be a character name that fits the traits of the person well, a line that made you laugh, or a subplot that left you breathless. 

Not giving me any notes.

As much as it thrills me to know that you loved every word of my messy first draft, I’m going to have a hard time believing it. I’m relying on you to be fresh eyes for me on something I’m too involved with to see objectively. I appreciate that you took the time to read, but you’ve somewhat wasted mine in not offering any thoughts for improvement because I now have to track down another reader to point me in the right direction.

And this last one really makes me grind my teeth:

Rewriting my manuscript.

I once had someone read for me who made giant x’s on full pages of my manuscript and took it upon herself to delete a whole chapter in track changes. She also rewrote a ton of paragraphs, including the entire opening. I’m perfectly fine with a suggestion to “think about improving pacing by cutting this chapter” or “Show us this in a scene versus telling us in backstory” but it really grated my nerves that she went in and did it for me. In fact it bothered me so much that I now refuse to delete a single word from a CPs manuscript unless it’s a typo. I mark it in comments instead. Good CPs will say, “Here are my thoughts. Take any that resonate with you and ignore the rest!” and let the author decide for herself whether the suggestion is in line with her vision for the book or not. You might have clear ideas for how you could make this book sooo much better, but in the end you’ll be more valuable as a CP by recognizing that it’s only your opinion to offer and not your story to write.

What about you? Share your horror stories here or tell us what really pushes your buttons on the receiving end of a critique.

How To Be A Good Critique Partner

The last few months I’ve been talking about critique partners, who, to me, are a non-negotiable must-have for anyone serious about writing. In January I talked about where to find critique partners and in February I covered what kinds of critique partners you might want to have in your stable. This month, I’m going to focus on how to give good critique (stay tuned for next month when I discuss what NOT to do in a critique).

Most of us would not invest our time and energy into reading purely for the sport of tearing down a fellow writer. But we could all probably stand a reminder on how to deliver tough news in sensitive ways. Yes, your CP is looking to you to help her identify problem areas in her manuscript. Basically, she is asking you to find fault. Which makes you a bit damned. Most writers describe the first draft as falling in love. We love our words, our concept, our characters. We have fallen asleep plotting their actions and woken up thinking of their worlds. When your critique of that beloved manuscript lands in a writer’s inbox, it’s akin to that writer discovering her dream date lives with his mother. Probably not a deal-breaker, but the bloom is off the rose. And you’re the one who plucked the petals.

There’s no way around that, but there are ways to deliver a thoughtful critique that will likely include some bad with the good. First of all, remember the compliment sandwich. Your CP doesn’t want you blowing smoke up his butt, but he would probably greatly appreciate if your notes started out with some things that are working well in the manuscript. This lets the writer know that the problems you’ll be mentioning next may exist, but overall the work has merit and potential. It’s also always nice to end with a brief note thanking the writer for sharing his words with you and reiterating your confidence in his ability to make the story even better!

Frame your critique constructively. Make comments designed not to tear down, but to build up the work. Phrases like “Have you considered…”, “It might be interesting to see what would happen if…”, and “I think you could solve this by…” are all helpful and kind ways to point out issues.

Admit your own subjectivity. Every reader brings his or her personal tastes and experiences to a story and sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “This could just be me, but…” For instance: if your best friend in high school had an eating disorder, which also happens to be the topic of the manuscript you’re critiquing, that is helpful for the writer to know because you may be both more attuned to the realities of the disorder and whether the author captured them realistically and also more sensitive to some of the content explored.  When CPs prefaces a comment by saying something like, “I’ll admit I’m kind of an overprotective mom, but this scene made me cringe because…” that’s actually helpful. By quantifying, you’re raising a flag that lets the writer know she should get some further feedback on this concern before making any decisions on a change.

Ask questions. “Would she be wearing that tank top if your manuscript is set in January?”, “If one of his hands is in her hair and another at her back, how is he texting his friend right now?” “Would she really do this/say this/think this here?” are all far better ways to point something out that “Uh, hello, it’s WINTER”, “Is he a three-armed freak or something?”, “The voice is wayyyy off here”. Often we’re so ensconced in the story that we dash off a quick note so we can get back to reading, and don’t take the time to think about how that note could be interpreted. If that’s something you do, take a quick scroll through your comments before sending back to the writer.

Remember to point out the good. It is every bit as useful for a writer to know what scenes, sentences, and word choices are working as it is to know the ones that aren’t. My CPs and I have all adopted the method of one, who uses a green highlighter to quickly mark sentences or scenes she loves to death. I get so happy when I encounter green in my manuscript, even if it’s in the middle of lots of comment boxes of issues that need addressing. I’ve found personal or funny notes can have the same effect. A quick “Oh man, that’s so embarrassing for the MC. Reminds me of the time I spilled milk on the Pope” or “Great, now I’m crying!” or “I wanted to go to sleep at the end of this chapter but, curse you, because now I have to know what happens!” is a welcome break from more critical notes and reminds the writer that you do indeed like her story!

How about you? What do you love to see in critiques you’ve gotten back? How do you frame your own comments to others?

What to Look for in a Critique Partner

Last month I blogged about how to search for new critique partners, and today I'd like to expand on that and talk about what kinds of critique partners will take your writing to another level.  

My CP’s are sweet and wonderful people I trust beyond belief. They could never fit into a perfect box, but for the purpose of this post I’m gonna put nice generic labels on them (even though some overlap into several of these camps). I’ve shared my work with a lot of people and I’ve gotten fantastic and craptastic critiques. I learned something from every one of them. But in general, I think my work is pushed the most when I have this I at least one of each of these in my stable:

A CP who is ahead of me in the process

Authors who are well-published have typically been writing longer and critiquing longer, have gone through the revision process more times, and have the advantage of having worked with a professional editor at a publishing house. All of those things will further their critical eye, which means their critiques are often more extensive and nuanced.

A CP who writes just like I do

Authors who share a similar writing style, tone, or voice “get me” and what I’m trying to accomplish like no other. They’ll also more easily pick out spots where things aren’t working or just feel “off”. Lastly, they tend to have spot-on suggestions for how to fix trouble spots because they can envision what they would do if it were their manuscript. 

A CP who writes very differently.

Some of my CPs write with a much more literary style and about much deeper topics than my light and (hopefully) funny “chick lit for chicklets” stories. While it might seem like we wouldn’t be a good fit, they actually challenge me to get outside my comfort zone with my writing and hopefully I’m able to help them achieve a balance of depth and lightness in theirs. Another CP and I have opposite strengths and weaknesses that make us a really good match. My comments to her typically have to do with losing some of the interior monologues to tighten the pacing and hers back to me usually look something like “But how does this make her feel!” or “What is she thinking here?” and “Need more reaction from her!” I find this unbelievably helpful and I love being pushed like this. 

A CP who is behind me in the process

Hopefully this won’t sound condescending, but when I’m critiquing for someone who is newer to writing, it is far easier for me to spot what isn’t working and often also easier to figure out why it isn’t working or what a fix for the issue would be. Lots of times this problem-solving for someone else helps me to see a similar issue in my own writing or at least illustrates a point to me so that I have a deeper understanding of craft. For instance, “telling versus showing” became much more concrete in my mind when I read examples of it in someone else’s work and recognized how I was responding to it as a reader. Armed with that perspective, I was much more able to spot it in my own writing and much more willing to perform the necessary hatchet job!  

A CP who just plain loves your writing
I will confess, I have one beta reader who is really super positive. I love sending her my manuscript because I know I’m going to get it back with all kinds of rainbows and sunshine on the pages. Does it push me in my writing? Nah. I have other CPs for that. But it does lift me up to scroll through her notes on days I’m feeling particularly stuck on revisions. It reminds me that my early draft wasn’t BAD, it just needs to get better.

There are far more things I can (and will) say on the subject of critique partners, but for now, I’d love to know what balance you strike with your CPs. Do they fit into any of the boxes above?

When Analyzing A Story Just Won't Quit

In my pre-kid life I was a publicist for a major movie studio and was privy to a lot of inside knowledge about the films I worked on. Often that made it hard to watch movies for enjoyment’s sake only, knowing that a particular scene was filmed where it was because the unions had made it difficult to film in the first-choice location, that the actor and director positively hated each other and searching for signs of it on screen. Several times a week, I would “have” (tough gig, right?) to watch movies and try to identify potential marketing strategies we’d use to sell the film in my geographical territory.  I could never complain about that job, but it did make watching movies feel like work, and so I escaped to books to lose myself in another world.

This summer I thought I would do the same in reverse.

With the kids home from school and plenty of vacation to disrupt our routine, I knew I wouldn’t have the quiet time and mental space I usually rely on to write and read. It’s hard to plot amidst requests to carve the watermelon or help find new batteries for the Wii remote. So I decided to give myself a total break from it all.

Mmm...not so much.

What I found was that I’d been working so hard recently to dissect books I loved and really hone the story analysis part of my brain, that I just couldn’t turn it off, even though the medium was totally different. On the one hand, there were times I really wanted to lose myself in a story, but on the other hand, I gained appreciation for the techniques other mediums employ and the way they can transfer to my own stories. I watched mindless summer blockbusters, but still gained a whole new appreciation for breathless pacing. 

I watched TV shows that were master classes in realistic dialogue. A stretch of rainy days had us marathon viewing full seasons of TV series, which gave me a great perspective on combining smaller story arcs with an overarching season-long narrative and some kick-ass examples of realistic dialogue. 

I thought I was taking a break, but instead I was expanding my source material and I’m hoping my “time off” has made me a better storyteller.

Of course, I now need to find entirely new diversions since none of these gave my brain a rest. So, can anyone recommend a good board game? Preferably one with absolutely no characters and no background storyline?

And while you’re at it, where have you found inspiration to help you as a storyteller?